


dampi

by thefullergirl



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 7+1 fic, Birthmarks, Bruises, Canon Compliant, Exploring bodies, Fluff, It's a bit sad though??, M/M, No plot whatsoever, Pining, Scars, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefullergirl/pseuds/thefullergirl
Summary: Jaemin, as Jeno has realized, has a lot of marks on his body.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 132





	dampi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sciences](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciences/gifts).



> happy birthday to ate ross, whose [nomin fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535819/chapters/51337432) got me into writing nomin! ♡
> 
> this is just a small gift, i hope you like it! i also wish that your birthday is good and full of jaemjen ♡

Jaemin, as Jeno has realized, has a lot of marks on his body.

The first one he found was that dark, rough spot at the side of Jaemin’s wrist. 

They were at one of those hole-in-a-wall coffee shops Jaemin discovered through some sort of forum. It’s quaint, all exposed brick and plants and chairs you can sink into.

He sat across from Jaemin, carefully peeling the wrapper off of his banana muffin. Already sipping at his own coffee, Jaemin was trying to take photos of the place with his phone. When he put his cup down to rest his chin on that hand, Jeno saw it.

It almost looked like a bruise, with how dark it was. Jeno originally thought that Jaemin got it from accidentally bumping into tables or chairs (as he does quite often). He had reached over, poking it slightly. Jaemin only turned to him, brows raised.

“Yeah?” he asked, genuinely wondering why Jeno poked at him. It wasn’t a bruise, if Jaemin didn’t even react to it.

“What’s that?” Jeno tried not to point at it.

Jaemin, confused, looked at the spot. He seemed to be processing what Jeno could have possibly seen there for a solid moment. Then, his mouth opened in a silent “ah”.

“It’s from me using the computer often,” he said casually, turning his wrist this way and that. “My wrist is on the desk constantly, so it formed that.”

Oh. Jeno didn’t know that that could happen, but he thought that it made sense. Jaemin almost always was on his computer if he didn’t have anything else to do, editing or gaming or both. Jeno turned his own wrist to see if he had anything like it, to no luck.

So he just ate his muffin, thinking about how many sleepless nights Jaemin has spent working.

The next one is a scar running across an entire knee, pink and raised. 

Jaemin was sprawled on the couch, his shorts riding up on legs muscular from biking, his eyes trained on the drama he was watching on the TV.

Jeno just went to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge, then perching on the arm of the sofa to idly watch the drama. Wordlessly, Jaemin folded his legs towards himself, patting the space for Jeno to sit.

More often than not, sitting with Jaemin would soon evolve from normal sitting to some semblance of cuddling, with heads on shoulders and arms around each other and knees bumping. This time, somehow, he ended up with his back pressed against Jaemin’s chest, held like he’s one of Jaemin’s favorite plushies while they watched the characters have a tearful reunion in the middle of the street.

Jaemin runs warm, even with the airconditioning on full blast, only his fingertips cool as they drummed on Jeno’s arm. Jeno had no idea what drama they’re watching, what with Jaemin’s ever growing list of to-watch shows that he watches long after the hype has died down. He revelled in the warmth around him, and tried to pick up what he could from what he saw.

At some point, one of his hands came to rest on top of Jaemin’s knee, fingers gently running over the scar. He wasn’t even fully aware that he was doing it, just feeling the raised skin over and over.

“Cut myself on this huge rock when we went swimming,” Jaemin said, snapping Jeno out of his focus on the show. “I went too far and my goggles weren’t that great, and when I turned around, I dragged my knee across this jagged rock. Cried all the way to the shore.”

When Jeno turned to look at him, the smallest of smiles was tilting a corner of Jaemin’s mouth up. “I remember being afraid it was that fish that felt like a rock and then got poison into your bloodstream that would kill you in minutes.” His chuckle reverberates against Jeno’s back. “It wasn’t, but I just couldn’t stop crying about it.”

Passing his thumb over it, Jeno asked, “What happened after that?”

“Well.” Jaemin hummed, making tiny, soft punches against Jeno’s back. “My dad cleaned it and since we didn’t have bandaids on us, just let it be until we got home. I passed out in the car after all the crying, and I woke up in bed with it bandaged and all. I refused to walk for a few days.”

Jeno snorted, tracing the scar. “So dramatic.”

Jaemin only shrugged in response.

The freckles he only saw after a long day in the sun, and Jeno wondered if he just hadn't been looking before.

Donghyuck had gotten them to go to a nearby beach, soak up the last of the summer sun before they all went back to functioning like the young adults that they are. They packed a picnic, loaded umbrellas and blankets into a rented truck, and set out.

Under the sun that beat down on them, they tried to make a comfortable setup for them, laying out all the blankets and opening the umbrellas. The beach was thankfully mostly empty, with only that family somewhere far from them. It was such a nice day out too, the breeze ruffling their shirts cool and the sky a cloudless, brilliant blue.

Jeno wasn’t first to the water, instead plopping down on their blankets and sipping on fruit soda as he watched the others dash away. They had plenty of time left in the day, Jeno was in no rush to go to the sea. It was nice to just soak up the remnants of the summer while in the shade of the umbrellas.

It wasn’t long before Chenle nearly dived into the blankets, damp and all smiley with his cheeks red from the sun. Jeno had to flinch away when he shook his hair out, all the sand flying off of it. A slightly waterlogged Jisung followed after, having escaped Donghyuck and his attempts to carry people into the water.

The beach bag with all the snacks was open by the time the others came back, the three sprawled out on the mismatched blankets already finished with their sandwiches and a big bag of chips. Renjun had sand clinging to almost everywhere, his t-shirt and shorts stuck to him. Sunglasses high on his nose and looking about as soaked as Renjun, Donghyuck grinned as he rooted through their cooler for a soda.

And Jaemin, well. He looked barely ruffled, his bleached hair pushed back with seawater, sleeves rolled up and his skin pinking. Landing with a thud next to Jeno, he opened his own drink, bumping shoulders with him.

When everyone’s fed and sleepy, Jeno goes to the sea, closely trailed by Jaemin. The sun was less intense, peeking at them through tall palm trees. Jeno’s feet were sinking in the sand on the way, and he could hear Jaemin chuckling at him making weird steps just to walk. 

The sea was warmed by the sun, soft as it lapped around Jeno’s ankles. Even with his feet rather deep in the wet sand, he could feel the breeze push at him, almost getting him to give in and let himself be taken by the water. He closed his eyes, breathing in salt and sunlight and sea.

A hand came to touch his back, barely there. Jeno didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it belonged to.

“Don’t you want to see how beautiful it is?” Jaemin’s voice was so quiet it almost seemed part of the breeze pushing at Jeno.

Jeno didn’t open his eyes. “What is?” 

The hand trailed upward, like drawing a line straight to the sky. “All of it, Jeno. All of it’s beautiful.”

He opened his eyes then, and Jaemin wasn't looking at him. Jaemin’s gaze trained towards the horizon, his eyes becoming molten amber in the fading light. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and it was the first time Jeno saw the dusting of freckles on his arms, only a shade or so darker than Jaemin’s slightly sunburnt skin.

Jaemin turned to him, all wide eyes and no smile, and even when it wasn’t as bright anymore, Jeno could see how he had freckles crossing from one cheek to another. If he had looked a little more closely, maybe he would have seen Jaemin’s collarbone lined with them as well. He would complain about the sunburn the next day, Jeno knew, but he didn’t seem to care. All he seemed to even think about is how, in his words, “all of it’s beautiful.”

And Jeno looked at him and knew he was right.

He discovered Jaemin’s birthmark not all that long after. 

Summer was officially over, but it was still too hot to forego the airconditioning in their rooms. More often than not, nearly all of them would just pad around the dorm in shorts and no shirts, and barely anyone minded.

Jaemin was one of the first ones to do it. He runs too warm, struggling in higher temperatures and often just laying down for hours with the aircon on full blast. So with the last days of sticky humidity upon them, he just couldn’t resist it.

At least, he didn’t leave his damp shirts just anywhere, at least as far as Jeno could see. Jeno would come home from running a few errands to him having what seems like his first meal of the day at 5 pm by the kitchen counter, very shirtless and barely minding anyone who comes and goes into their dorm. If not, Jeno would chance upon him working in the living room, laptop open and his eyes focused, not even flinching when Jisung throws a shirt at his face.

Other times though, he’d just wander into Jeno’s room wordlessly, roll around a little on Jeno’s bed because he’s so bored. He’ll be fine for about an hour before he starts to ask if Jeno would want to go out maybe.

That day was one of those times. Jeno was spinning around idly in his desk chair, waiting for the episodes of the show he was watching to download with the shitty WiFi. He was about to just start playing songs when Jaemin walked into his room as casually as if it was his. Jaemin sat on Jeno’s freshly made bed, staring into nothing for a few moments before starfishing on the dark gray sheets.

“What?” Jeno asked, already knowing that Jaemin just wanted something to do.

Even from that angle, Jeno could see Jaemin frown. “I don’t even know.”

Chuckling, Jeno just turned back to his computer, clicking on his playlist so it would play over his speakers. He was humming along to a song, twisting his chair around to face the boy sprawled out on his bed.

“Jaemin, take a nap. I saw you still editing when I woke up this morning.”

His friend props himself up on his elbow lazily, scowling at him. He only turns to flop down on his stomach. “Don’t wanna nap.”

Burrowing down into Jeno’s sheets, Jaemin just let out a sigh. Jeno pushes himself off his chair, coming over to his friend. A hand automatically raised to card through Jaemin’s hair, tugging gently at the locks.

“You need rest too, you know,” he said gently. “Working yourself to the bone isn’t going to do you good.”

Jaemin only grumbled something unintelligible at that, burying his face in the dark gray. He was shirtless, not cold even with the airconditioner vents directed at him. Jeno smiled at his bunny pajamas, poked at the faded pink print.

Like that, Jeno could see two marks on Jaemin’s slightly tanned skin, one a little higher than the other, each on a shoulder blade. He drew circles around each one.

“Birthmark?”

Propping his head up with a hand, Jaemin hummed. “Yeah. My mom said I must have had angel wings in a past life.”

Jeno mirrored his chuckle. “Didn’t think of you as an angel.”

That made Jaemin turn around and throw a look at him. “Thanks,” Jaemin said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. Jeno laughed again.

“But really,” Jaemin began, relaxing onto the bed again, his shoulder blades sticking out of his back from his position. Jeno grazed his fingers over the spots. “My grandmother said that having marks there means it’s a sign that I have a deep calling. Said that I have a strong sense of purpose in life, and that I’ll do what I can to achieve it.”

Without saying another thing, Jeno thought about his words. He pressed his fingers against one of the marks, feeling Jaemin’s heat seep through him. 

He actually expected the burn marks and the cuts on the fingers. Jaemin often cooked, after all. Jeno had seen marks like those on his grandmother’s hands, as well as his mother’s and his uncle’s. All in different places on their hands and arms, but there all the same.

It was sometime between midnight and 2 am, and Jaemin was making ramen for whoever was still up, which was pretty much all 4 of them in the dorm. He was quiet as he stirred at the noodles, his movements practiced and calm. Like that, he was completely in his element.

The first bowl was set down in front of jeno, the fried egg staring at him like the sun that was going to peek through their blinds soon. Jaemin went to give the other two bowls to Renjun, who was drawing on his iPad while sitting cross-legged on the couch, and Jisung, who, last time that Jeno had checked, was deep into another webtoon he found.

Jeno was only three bites in when Jaemin slid into the chair next to him with a bowl of his own. He was wearing a shirt that Jeno thinks is probably not his (or it can be; Jaemin had collected shirts here and there on a whim), all too big on his frame and wrinkled from sleep. 

Unlike how he usually is, Jaemin ate slowly, periodically looking at the wall. Jeno thought of asking him what was wrong, but he’s long learned that sometimes, asking would lead nowhere. Especially at such an odd hour, when everybody was awake but not really.

One of Jaemin’s hands was on the counter, palm up. Idly, like he was testing how they felt, Jaemin flexed his fingers. For a few moments, Jeno only watched the motion. He almost chuckled at the memory of a robot film they watched when they couldn’t find anything else, and how the robot tried to move his fingers to see if they were real.

Somehow, Jeno ended up tracing the lines on Jaemin’s palm, wishing that he somehow knew how to read that sort of thing. Jaemin didn’t seem to mind, just eating his noodles as he either looked straight at whatever was interesting on the wall of Jeno’s repetitive motions.

On that hand, Jaemin had a smattering of cuts and burns, with varied sizes and degrees of healing. Undoubtedly acquired after years of not just cooking, but the many different volunteer work that he did. It was a hand that has touched many things, experienced the world, gotten immersed in it. It was warm, even with their airconditioning, and if Jeno could, he’d spend the rest of the night feeling every single scar.

“It’s like you haven’t seen them before,” said Jaemin, so quiet it almost seemed like he only meant it for himself.

Jeno didn’t stop tracing the lines, faint as they may be. “They’re just...comforting.”

A soft laugh came out of Jaemin, more like an exhale than anything else. “The scars on my hand from cooking is comforting?”

“Yeah.” Jeno didn’t meet his eyes. “It reminds me of my mom. Her hands are like this. I haven’t really held them in a while though, but I remember.”

Gently, Jaemin used his hand to cup the side of Jeno’s face. His hand smells like instant ramen powder. His fingers tucked Jeno’s rather long hair behind his ear. “When you go home next time, hold your mom’s hands.”

Jeno silently promised that he will.

And god, Jaemin had bruises. On his knees from practice, on his hip from bumping into a table, on an arm from some mysterious force in the night that gives him bruises that he didn’t even remember. Sometimes, Jeno would catch him poking at them curiously, only to wince in pain after.

Not that Jeno can really laugh at him all that much, he had several of his own. On a thigh from nearly crashing into his swivel chair and therefore hitting it on the armrest, on his shoulder from the doorknob (no, he did not know how that happened either), on his forehead from hitting it accidentally on a cabinet door.

Jaemin poked at his bruises too, before Jeno swatted him away. It’s like he found some sort of joy in doing it. Jeno pouted up at him, trying to keep his hands away.

“Are we just too clumsy, Jeno?” he asked, his smile on the edge of teasing.

It wasn’t easy to hold onto Jaemin’s wrists. “Maybe the world just wasn’t made for us.”

That made Jaemin snort, and he’d lean in, which only resulted to them bumping heads. As Jeno rubbed over the sore spot, he thought that he was right. The both of them just weren’t made to move in this world.

Both lied down on the floor of their practice room, staring the ceiling they already knew every nook and cranny of. Somehow, Jaemin’s knee went from bumping against Jeno’s to going over over it.

“If this world wasn’t made for us,” Jaemin mused, “what world is?”

Jeno had already closed his eyes. He didn’t know how to answer Jaemin’s question.

“Jen,” Jaemin said softly, like his name is a secret. “Is there a world out there that’s made for us? Somewhere we’re not quite like this, but us the same?”

Opening his eyes, he turned to face him. Jaemin had been facing up too, but then turned his head just so their gazes could meet.

Jeno only poked his fingers into Jaemin’s side, his best friend’s squeals ringing around the practice room.

The last one Jeno found (so far, anyways) is the tiny scar on the side of Jaemin’s head, covered by all his bleached hair.

His fingers were running through Jaemin’s hair, his best friend’s head in his lap. It was one of those days when neither could sleep anyway, so they resorted to just staying with each other. Jeno was in Jaemin’s bunk, the sheets nestling him while Jaemin placed his head in his lap like a cat wanting head pats.

Even with the soothing motions, neither really seemed to grow drowsier. It was just them and their breathing, them and the distant notification pings on Jaemin’s desktop computer.

They really should’ve slept. They had a schedule in the morning, and Jeno really didn’t want to put their makeup artist through more with how much she had to try and work with the dark circles under their eyes. But like that, with each other in Jaemin’s tiny bunk, it just felt like nothing could go wrong. Why would it?

It was nearing Christmas. Their days were only going to get busier and busier, and moments like that were going to be inevitably replaced with the need to crash into bed after their long days. The holidays to them never really felt like what they were to other people.

Soon enough, they were going to put up what constituted as a Christmas tree in their dorm. Maybe even put lights on it this year. Jeno wondered if they would finish it a week before Christmas like last time.

In his lap, Jaemin shifted. He sat up, and tufts of his hair were sticking out. He did look like a cat in that moment, just a tad on the side of grumpy and drowsy at the same time. After a moment’s hesitation, Jeno reached out to smooth down his hair.

“We should sleep, Nana,” he said. 

Jaemin looked at him with those eyes that seemed to know everything Jeno has never said. “We should,” he agreed.

No one made a move to leave.

Gently, Jaemin twirled the string that looped through the pendant with Jeno’s name. He looked at it, at the characters that say “Lee Jeno”, passing his thumb over them. Jeno followed the motion with his gaze.

For a long, silent second, Jaemin just stared at the pendant. Then, his fingers slowly curled around it, holding it in the heat of his palm. Jeno didn’t know why, but he felt like Jaemin was clutching at him too.

They raised their heads, eyes meeting, and Jeno thought he could see the ghost of Jaemin’s trademark smile on his lips, but softer, a smidge sadder. Like Jaemin knew exactly everything they’ve kept from each other all these years. He knew that neither would say anything anytime soon.

So, he opened his hand, pressed his lips to the pendant in something that wasn’t even really a kiss. Afterwards, he did the same to Jeno’s cheek, soft and fleeting and not warm enough to make the December chill go away.

Pulling back, he gave that same smile, just a tad bit heartbreaking, before he settled his head back on Jeno’s lap. Almost automatically, Jeno started combing his fingers through the head of hair again.

With that, he found the little scar, at the very back of Jaemin’s skull. He ran his fingers over it, unsure if it was really there, and an unspoken question in itself. It was barely the length of his thumb, and too thin to even be noticed unless you really try.

Jaemin never answered. He only closed his eyes, murmuring a soft, “Goodnight, Jen.” 

Carefully, Jeno passed a thumb over the scar one last time before shifting Jaemin off of him. Jaemin went, instantly snuggling into his sheets. A little awkwardly, Jeno squeezed into the remaining half of the bed. He felt the way the other’s back went up and down from breathing. It was enough to lull him into sleep too, murmuring a promise to himself that he would ask next time.

“Goodnight, Nana.”

Jaemin, as Jeno realized, is also curious.

One day, he holds Jeno’s hand for no real reason other than he wants to. His thumb passes over the back of the hand as he looks out into the sun that’s slowly dipping into the horizon.

At some point, he looks down, questioning, at what he finds. There’s a raised little bit of skin by Jeno’s thumb. He tilts his head.

“That’s from a long time ago,” Jeno answers the unspoken inquiry.

Looking up at him, Jaemin whispers, “Tell me about it?”

He keeps running his thumb over the spot, like he wants to make sure it’s there. Jeno decides to tell him about it.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly it was nice to write something without plot lol
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/bundoie) and [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/evnsangcvlt) if you wanna talk!


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